I've shared in the past that I grew up feeling poor. So, I thought it would be good (at least for me) to write a series of posts on why I felt that way, including specific memories and experiences that contributed that overall feeling.
When I was a kid, and even well into my teen years, I remember that my mom hated wasting food. But when she cooked, she always made way too much food. So inevitably, we'd always have huge quantities of leftovers. Sometimes she would think to freeze the leftover. But other times, she'd forget to, and they'd get stuck somewhere in the fridge behind a gallon jug of milk.
Eventually, she'd find the leftovers, when it was well past the point in time when any sane person would attempt to eat them. But if they sort of passed the sniff test, she figured they were safe to eat. She never inflicted questionable leftovers on anyone but herself. But she figured, if the food was spoiled, it would simply prompt her to make a quick trip to the bathroom. No harm in that, right? I really hated the fact that my mom did that to herself, just to save a few pennies. I knew a youth pastor once who'd do the same thing. He had a notorious habit of eating things that other people would definitely take a pass on. But it was out of necessity, rather than preference. When he decided to go to seminary, his parents cut him off financially. So, he basically led a hand to mouth existence for several years while he was attending graduate school.
As a result of my childhood experiences, I have a definite aversion to leftovers. If I don't manage to consume something within a day or two, I tend to throw it out. No sniff test for me. But last night was an exception. I ate a piece of grapefruit that I had peeled and put away in a tupperware container several days ago. It definitely tasted kind of funky. And of course, I paid for it later on. My stomach was definitely in bad shape aftewards. Ugh. So, no matter how much I try to fight it, at times I really think that I'm turning into my mom.